


Here You Are

by Hell joe (Claire_Dimlight)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: College AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Victor is not a figure skater, Yurio's potty mouth, angsty it doesnt make any sense, getting back together fic, so is yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9368156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire_Dimlight/pseuds/Hell%20joe
Summary: "Three years without you is enough proof."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd 
> 
> Victor: 29  
> Yuuri: 25  
> Yuri:18

Victor narrowed his eyes as he read one out of fifty six names on attendance list. Unbelievable! Three years missing and now his name appeared. But he really was his fiancé—or supposed to be, Katsuki Yuuri.

Victor found his face, somehow thicker yet still adorable, as the said person raised his hand when called. But that was all! He didn’t look back. Didn’t smile. Even dismissed Victor’s presence. How dare he!

How could Victor miss him after all this time? Victor had been teaching Modern Literature Class three times but this was the first time Yuuri attended to his class—though maybe he just found out about him because this was the first time he called for attendance, replacing Mila, his fellow colleague, who was now out of cold and couldn’t move a singe limb. But it didn't matter—how could he never greet him? Sure it wasn’t hard for Yuuri to know Victor was one of the professors, since apparently his name still drifting through students’ mouth for being the legend genius.

Victor lifted his head. He stared at Yuuri who was busy giggling with a person next to him—a friend?—not realizing he was stared at owlishly.

He was still the same as Victor remember. Short black hair. Dorky glasses. Innocent eyes that drawing people’s trust easily. His smile still a heartthrob as ever. From his place, Victor could hear his soft voice of his laughter.

After class ended and students rushed towards exit, Victor found himself counting in his head. On the fifteenth, he looked up and Yuuri had gone.

 _‘Shit, shit, shit! So he really forgets about me.’_ Pride his ass, Victor quickly cleared the desk and put the paper on his bag. He half run as he rushed out, lolling his head for a black haired with blue hoodie. He must look ridiculous right now but he could care less. He had walked on the corridor back and forth yet he still couldn’t find him. He sighed. That was it. He lost him. Maybe tomorrow he would try again. He turned and,

There was someone before him. _Where did this little devil appear from?_ Victor stood there and just stared. On the other hand, Yuuri stood straight with his sweetest smile. There was a gleam in his eyes that suspiciously mischievous. He must’ve had fun time seeing Victor frantically searching for him.

“Are you looking for me?” he asked innocently.

“Yuuri!” Victor took a step forward, part of him disbelieving, other part overflowed with longing, “What are you doing here?!”

 “Didn’t you suppose to ask how I am first?” Yuuri laughed, amused, “Well, as you can see I set a new goal. I hope I’m not too old. At least I’ll pass next year—or so I hope.”

Victor shook his head. He knew Yuuri eight years ago at the park in Detroit as seventeen years old boy who loved skating from the bottom of his heart—he himself almost finished his Bachelor degree—and from there on they formed a peculiar friendship which only escalated more and more.

And yet, five years later, after Yuuri’s crushing defeat in Grand Prix Final, he became someone Victor couldn’t reach for. It was gradual. And before he knew it, Yuuri already retired and was not in Detroit anymore.

“Did you really find it funny? At least you can greet me! I’m so wounded! Or you had no idea I‘m here?” Victor masked his worry with pout.

“Of course I know. All the million of things my friends say are bragging about you!”

“Then why?”

“You yourself didn’t find me either, right? That’s because I originally from other department. It’s far.”

Victor furrowed his brows, “...Are you saying you can’t deal walk a bit more far, even to meet with me?” Victor’s tone, if anything, sound scandalized.

“It was you who nicknamed me Lazy Piglet, remember?” Yuuri exclaimed, bursting into laughter.

Victor pouted. He lowered his gaze and was hit with cold realization. Yuuri’s finger was bare. The ring matched Victor’s that supposed to be there was absent. Victor gripped his fist tighter. His own ring was secure in his coat’s pocket. Loyal on his ring finger.

Victor remembered Yuuri bought the rings for luck-charm sake. And it was Victor who joke they would marry after Yuuri win the gold at GPF. But Yuuri had smiled, hadn’t he? Had it meant anything to him? As it meant everything to Victor?

“Victor?” Yuuri’s voice was full with concern. Victor looked up. He was met with clear eyes that reminded him of molten honey, protected behind blue framed glasses.

It was supposed to be Yuuri’s first time calling his name after three years, but Victor couldn’t bring himself overjoyed. Not with imaginary frozen claws caressed his nape.

“Victor, are you angry?”

Victor quickly drew himself together, smiled, “For your ignorance? No actually.”

“I won’t call it ignorance,” Yuuri suddenly felt self-conscious. He looked at the ground, “...it’s just I thought _you_ forget about me. Three years are quite long.”

“Not long enough for me to forget about you.”

They stared at each other eyes. Victor once again struck by how familiar Yuuri was. It was as if three years separation was folded and only yesterday they met in Detroit, lost in each other’s embrace.

“How is Yurio doing?” Yuuri asked, changing the topic.

Yurio, Yuri Plisetsky, another genius rumored as Victor’s successor, as well Victor and Yuuri’s acquaintance since he basically living with Victor in the past.

“He’s fine. You probably need to meet him as fast as possible and explain your situation before he claws your throat. He really misses you,” Victor joked, but then suddenly Victor became serious, “Why Yuuri? Why did you run? You have me, and Yurio.”

Yuuri was silent again. He averted his gaze, looking at everywhere but Victor. It was obvious he tried to make himself as small as possible. Even his answer was just as thin.

“I need time.”

“For what?”

“Do you believe time heals all wounds?”

“Yuuri,” Victor leaned in so that Yuuri didn’t have choice but stare back, “You can get time as much as you need. But was it necessary to cut off everything? Do you know how worried I was?”

“But..., I, I was a f-failure...,”

“Since when it is a problem for me?”

Indeed. But Yuuri couldn’t help feel insecure. Not back then. Not now. If only he win the gold and show the world he could become someone equal on Victor’s side...

* * *

 

“Yurio!”

Yuuri throw himself at his guest right after he opened the door, not anymore as petite as he remembered, but taller with broader shoulders, the only thing remained the same was his hair length.

“Miss me?” Yuuri laughed as he caught Yuri glared at him, “I never knew my charm is enough to pull you right from Russia!”

“Who said I miss you?!”

“Then, I’ll be the only one miss you,” Yuuri spoke calmly.

Yuri was silent. Suddenly he realized there was something vacant in Yuuri. Something he would find even in his old self sometimes—but this time, it was greater. Was he that lonely?

“Then you should’ve met me, moron,” Yuri scowled, “or Victor. You know where to find us.”

“I need time.”

“You fucking shit, need time you ass. If what you have done to us not called _running away_ then I don’t know what it was.”

It was Yuuri who was silent now. Yuri felt guilty for running his mouth as he pleased. He should know better aside from Victor how much Yuuri need time. As much as Yuri hated cowardliness, he tried to understand.

‘ _Running away is not wrong’_ Yuri remembered Victor once said, _‘sometimes it’s the easiest because it’s the only way they can see. But they’ll realize they have to get out eventually.’_

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri finally said, earnest. Yuri slid his fingers through his hair.

“Apology accepted. Now let me in and prepare a room for me and, oh, bring me Katsudon. It has been years! I’m in for three huge bowls!”

Yuuri smiled. He happily shifted his body so Yuri and his suitcase could enter his apartment. It was weird as it was calming when Yuuri witnessed Yuri made himself comfortable on a cushion, already turning the TV on. Somehow everything finally fell into place again.

“You’re still demanding as ever.”

“Shut up.”

Yuuri already walked towards his kitchen, preparing for dinner. It was good the ingredients still stocked up in refrigerator—minus the eggs, unfortunately. He need to walk out to a convenience shop later.

“So I was told you are Victor’s student?” Yuri asked. Yuuri lifted his gaze and caught Yuuri staring far away at the blinking screen.

“Yes, I am. Why? Didn’t Victor tell you?”

“He did, I think—but he made it sound confusing.”

“Really? Like what?”

Yuri snorted. He glared at the screen now.

“You know him. At one point he told me he met you, and then he whined why you never talk to him, next he was babbling about you are good at this, or still bad at this.”

“That sound just like him.”

“He still loves you, you know?”

Yuuri didn’t answer. Yuri craned his neck over his shoulder. Yuuri was busying with himself with a cooker pot, pretending not to hear.

“What about you?" Yuri probed further. Yuuri inhaled slowly, feeling defeated. He turned his back and look at Yuri square in the eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Yuri stared at him incredulously. Yuuri thought he would use verbal abuse, but instead, the younger male only shrugged and faced the TV back.

“It does, to Victor, at least.”

Yuuri never felt so grateful Yuri had his back on him now.

“Well, I need eggs. I have to go. Need something?”

A pause.

“Popsicle, like usual.”

“Got it.”

* * *

 

“Why didn’t you wait for me yesterday?”

Yuuri yelped. Victor was right behind him, mouth so close to his ear, as his hand still high in the air. He was waving to Phichit who kindly gave him a ride home when Victor disturbed him with his sudden appearance. He turned his back abruptly.

“Victor? Why are you here?”

Instead answering, he looked at the small alley where Phichit left, “Is he your boyfriend? You two seem close”

“Are you jealous?”

Victor shifted his gaze to Yuuri, “Probably.”

“Then don’t,” Yuuri said casually, “He’s only a friend.”

“Right. But I can’t help it.”

“That’s ridiculous! You don’t have any reason to. Besides, don’t you already have someone? The whole campus says you two look good together,” Yuuri said cheerily.

Victor frowned, “Who do you mean? That’s gossip!”

“Really? But I think so myself. She’s a real beauty...., and young too.”

“Yuuri.”

“Who is her name again? Professor Mila? She rarely goes to campus, so I don’t really remember.”

“Yuuri.”

“Yes?”

“She’s only a friend.”

Victor didn’t know why he said that. There was no need actually. Since they weren’t bound to each other like those years ago. No significant relationship. Only professor-college student. Yuuri himself said those as a joke. But maybe that was the reason why. He could not stand the teasing. He needed to explain himself.

On the other side, Yuuri didn’t feel the need to search for reasons. For him, this was enough. For him, this unchanging Victor, who held neither resentment nor anger to his sudden disappearance, talking to him again like a long lost _friend,_ was enough.

“She befriends with Yurio too, so you can say we get along to bitch him behind his back.”

“What trash are you talking about, shitty Victor?”

Yuuri and Victor looked up in unison and found Yuri strode from the opposite direction with his suitcase.

“Yurio?” Yuuri asked, confused, but happy nonetheless, “I thought you already left,” then his brow folded in concern, “what happened?”

“I missed the plane,” he said curtly.

Victor burst, his laughter was aloud Yuuri worry they would be scolded.

“Really? Are you a kid?”

“I hate you,” Yurio took his sunglasses and turned to Yuuri, “Give me katsudon. I’m hungry.”

Yuuri grinned, “Will do, will do.”

“Katsudon? Yuuri, that’s unfair! Give me one too!”

“No, you shit. No katsudon for you.”

“Eh? Yurio you’re so mean!”

Yuuri fiddled with his key. Amused. His grin ever lasting.

Yes, this was enough.

* * *

 

Yuuri stood alone on a deserted ice rink with blank mind, staring at the ice below his skating shoes. The surface was pretty. The lines left from the blades formed an abstract painting. It reminded him of fairies’ trails.

Yuuri didn’t for how long he had been there. Perhaps ten minutes. Perhaps far more than that. And each time passed he felt his feet heavier. But he could not leave. Ice was his love. Ice was his home. But he denied his home for too long. And after all this time, he wondered why he still ended here, again and again. He thought of trying to embrace that happiness once again—when he skated, he was freer than any bird. But every time he touch the ice the regrets burdened his shoulders just too great. Too painful. He was yearning, yet he too afraid to reach.

As minutes passed, Yuuri realized he was not alone anymore.

“Since when?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you speak?”

Victor took steps from shadows, “You looked too comfortable.”

_Comfortable? He?_

Yuuri glided towards Victor, easily closing the distance. The sound of blades against ice echoed throughout the room.

“How you get permission to get there? Isn’t this already closing hour?”

“I got permission from Yuuko,” Victor dangled the spare key, “Like you did.”

Yuuri smiled. “So you know the owner.”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing here?”

“To find you.”

Yuuri tilted his head. “Why? Something matter?”

“No actually,” Victor shifted his feet, leaning against the board, “I just want to meet you,” he whispered.

“Victor, please don’t wait me for time to time. It’s not like I’ll go somewhere,” Yuuri was dazed. How Victor gazed at him reminded of the past—of Yuuri’s late practice and how Victor would always wait for him, sometimes asleep on makeshift bed he made from lining chairs. Yuri felt younger all of sudden. Out of habit, he palmed Victor’s cheek, “You need to go home. Look you have eye bags. Your students would hate it tomorrow.”

Victor leaned against the palm, “I can’t help it. You _did_ leave me to go somewhere, after all.”

“...I’m sorry.”

Yuuri tugged his hand softly. Victor sighed, already feeling empty. Victor folded his arms and hid his fists against his arms.

“Well, do you still love skating?”

This, brought Yuuri’s attention back to the ice. The coldness on his face seemed to echo the same question. _Do you?_

“...I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“Then, why you always coming back here?”

Yuuri turned his head, his stare accusing. Victor put his hands up, “I heard it from Yuuko.”

Yuuri thought about it for a moment, stealing a glance on the shining white surface.

“Because this is the only I have.”

Victor smiled sadly, “You have me too.”

Present tense. Yuuri noted. Warmth squeezed his heart like iron grip. It made him lightheaded. Nonetheless, he was still too afraid.

Victor waited. But Yuuri kept his mouth shut. He did not budge either. He still had his back on him. A thought crossed his mind that Yuuri probably cried.

Two minutes passed but still no response.

“Do you still love me, Yuuri?”

“...I do,” came the soft answer.

Victor smiled widely his eyes stung, “Then why not? Let’s getting back together.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Yuuri shrunk his back, making himself look smaller. He inhaled and turned, finally looking at Victor. His eyes were red. “Are _you_ even sure?"

"I'm very sure. Three years without you is enough proof."

"What about her?”

“Her?” Victor furrowed his eyebrows, “Mila?”

“Who else?”

Victor took a deep breath. He reached for Yuuri’s hand and gave him a squeeze. He stared at Yuuri seriously, “Believe me, she’s only a friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
